What is Justice?
by LuckyLadybug
Summary: Post-series, my Pendulum Swings verse. Tristan gets in trouble with a gang late at night ... and is rescued by someone he didn't expect.


**Yu-Gi-Oh!**

 **What is Justice?**

 **By Lucky_Ladybug**

 **Notes: The characters from the show are not mine. The gang is a human version of a weasel gang I created for the** _ **Sonic the Hedgehog**_ **fandom. The story is mine, and it is part of my** _ **Pendulum Swings**_ **verse, which is a post-series redemption arc for Yami Bakura. It takes place shortly after** _ **Static Code Analysis.**_

Tristan was not in a good mood. It was bad enough to run out of gas anywhere in town, but to run out of gas in a bad neighborhood was a thousand times worse. He muttered to himself and said all manner of words in his head that he would never want to say in front of Serenity as he wheeled his motorcycle down the deserted street.

Well, at least one upside to your motorcycle dying instead of your car was that you could still bring it with you, he mused.

"Hey, punk. That's a nice chopper you've got there."

Tristan looked up with a start. A badly scarred guy with purple hair and a mace in hand was leering at him from a lamppost.

"Yeah, it is," Tristan said guardedly. "Only right now it's out of gas."

"Oh, ain't that too bad." The guy pushed away from the lamppost and started to approach Tristan. From seemingly out of nowhere, four more people appeared and flanked him—two boys and two girls. None of them looked the least bit friendly.

Tristan tensed. "I need to find a gas station," he said, pretending he didn't know what they clearly wanted.

"You'd better be careful or you're gonna need a hospital," a blonde woman cooed. "Show him, Rocky baby."

The purple-haired guy sneered. "Yeah, I think I will."

Alright, Tristan had had enough. He pushed down the kickstand and let the motorcycle lean on it. "So that's how it's gonna be, then?" he said. "I'm warning you, I'm not any pushover."

"Funny," Rocky quipped. "That's just what I was gonna say to you."

They lunged at the same time, followed by all of Rocky's gang.

To Tristan's credit, he certainly knew how to hold his own in a fight. His attackers hadn't expected that. There were more than a few bruises and scrapes on everyone present before long. But no matter how good Tristan was, he couldn't quite out-perform every last member of the gang. Just when he thought he had the upper hand, two of them knocked him to the ground from behind and pinned him there. Before he could recover, the other three were coming at him from all angles. Rocky still had his mace. A black-haired guy next to him had a wrench. And a blue-haired guy held a club.

"We've got you now," Rocky grinned. "The Whipped Cream Avengers always win in the end."

Tristan squinted at him. "The . . . _what?!_ "

He immediately received a face-full of whipped cream squirted from a can. "We do this to our victims right before doin' the rest of the actual physical damage," Rocky said. "We're never sure what hurts worse. After all, pride can bruise pretty deep, don't you think?" He swung back with the hand that held the mace.

Tristan coughed and choked, spitting out some of the whipped cream as he tried to wipe it away from his eyes. The girls were pinning him down with their high-heeled boots, every bit as sadistic as the boys. Disoriented and expecting horrific pain any minute, Tristan still tried to reach up to grab at their ankles to throw them off.

At the same moment, the mace got caught. Rocky frowned, tugging on it. "What the heck?!"

A figure stepped out of the shadows, holding onto the chain. "It would be in your best interest to stop this assault," a familiar, gravelly voice intoned.

Tristan stiffened. "Yami Bakura?"

The blue-haired guy didn't look the least bit impressed. "Hey, Rocky, this guy won't be any challenge. He's got no muscle."

"He's kinda cute, though," the red-haired girl purred.

"Shut up!" the blue-haired guy snapped.

Rocky didn't look impressed either, but he was definitely entertained. "So, what happens if we don't 'stop this assault'?" he mocked.

Tristan finally finished cleaning off all the whipped cream. "You really don't want to know," he said.

Yami Bakura sneered. "Yes, that is correct. Looks can be deceiving, and I don't tolerate attacks on my friends."

"Well, try this on for size!" Rocky lunged with the mace. The other gang members grabbed their weapons and dove into the melee.

The Infinity Ring glowed brightly, illuminating Yami Bakura's dangerous visage. "You were all warned."

Everyone screamed. When the light faded, they were laying sprawled in every direction. Tristan gaped at the sight.

A foot came down in front of him. "Don't worry; their souls are all intact." Yami Bakura stood over him with folded arms. "Are you alright?"

"Y-Yeah." Tristan prayed he really had removed all the whipped cream. "Thanks." He slowly got to his feet, cringing at the pain of the new bruises. "Oh wow." He clenched his teeth. "What are you doing here anyway?"

A shrug. "I like to take walks if I can't sleep at night. I don't disturb Bakura if I can help it." Yami Bakura peered at him. "You missed a spot." He pointed at Tristan's right temple.

Tristan scowled and brushed the offending whipped cream away. ". . . Do you know if there's a gas station anywhere around here?" he asked, deciding it best not to mention the humiliation at all.

"I passed one two blocks that way." Yami Bakura jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

"Great." Tristan released the kickstand and started to move the motorcycle forward yet again.

Yami Bakura stepped in front of it and placed his hand in the middle of the handlebars. "How badly are you hurt?" he demanded.

Tristan paused. He had been initially annoyed at being stopped, but . . . to be stopped for that reason . . . well, that was completely unexpected. Weird, yet kind of nice to know someone was concerned.

"It's nothing," he insisted. "Just a few new bumps and bruises. I've been hurt worse during times when Joey and I had to fight off gangs."

"Hmm," said Yami Bakura, not entirely believing it. But he stepped back, allowing Tristan to proceed. He then opted to walk with him, albeit in silence.

It was then that Tristan fully processed what Yami Bakura had said to Rocky moments before. "You called me your friend," he remembered.

"You are, aren't you?" Yami Bakura said without skipping a beat.

Tristan started to smile a bit. "Yeah. Yeah, I am." It would have been unheard-of and unthinkable weeks earlier. But by now it made perfect sense. And Tristan was completely alright with that.

"Then you're not bothered that I said it," Yami Bakura said.

"Bothered?" Tristan echoed. "Not hardly. Although it feels pretty surreal."

"It's not the first time I've saved you, either," Yami Bakura said.

"The first time was back when Bakura and Téa and I were caught by Pegasus," Tristan remembered. "Then you rescued me when I was trying to get Mokuba out of Pegasus's dungeon. And you did it when we got attacked by Rare Hunters and they knocked me out and threw me in the ocean." He hesitated. Was the stab wound still there or had it finally healed? He couldn't tell when Yami Bakura was in this form, since in that case he tended to keep his shirts closed.

Yami Bakura didn't volunteer the information either. "We've had quite the wild and tumultuous times," he said.

"That's an understatement," Tristan said.

"Odd that we're only now coming to the realization that we're friends."

"At least we finally did."

"Yes."

They reached the gas station and Tristan gratefully went to the nearest pump. Yami Bakura folded his arms and leaned against the machine, waiting for him.

"So, what happens if Bakura wakes up and sees you're gone?" Tristan asked. "Somehow you don't seem like the type to leave a note."

"I'm not, but he knows I go out at times if I can't sleep," Yami Bakura said. "He might sit up and wait for me if he can't sleep either, or he might go back to bed. If I'm gone too long, he might go looking for me."

"I hope he'll never come down here," Tristan muttered. "These creeps play rough."

"Yes, if I'm in the mood for a little justice, I can usually find ways to serve it down here," Yami Bakura sneered. "Not that I deliberately go looking for trouble."

"Oh, of course not," Tristan said, rolling his eyes a bit.

Yami Bakura just chuckled.

"That reminds me." Tristan finally got the motorcycle filled with gas and removed the nozzle. "I ran into Bonz the other day. He and his friends were talking about seeing you and remembering some messed-up thing you did to them during Battle City."

"Accusing me, are we?" Yami Bakura said without skipping a beat.

"No, but I wondered why you did it," Tristan said.

"You could simply believe I was getting my kicks out of tormenting people," Yami Bakura said. "But you don't?"

"I've thought about it," Tristan said. "But since you've proved you're different than I often thought, I wondered if there was more to it."

Yami Bakura looked away. "There was." He glowered at the ground in the distance. "They left Bakura to die by sealing him and the rest of us in that cave. There was no indication that they thought there was a way for anyone to get out. So I wanted to teach them a lesson by sealing them away and leaving them at my mercy."

Tristan stared at his unusual companion. He really wasn't sure what to say to that. It wasn't at all what he had expected to be told.

Yami Bakura finally looked back to him. "I shocked you, eh?"

"Yeah, you kind of did," Tristan admitted.

"And you still don't agree, I assume."

"I don't know whether I do or not," Tristan said. "Were you planning to just leave them there?"

"I'm not sure I knew what I was planning," Yami Bakura said honestly. "Or if I planned anything at all. I wanted to punish them for what they did and I did."

"You sure did," Tristan said, shaking his head. "When I saw them, they acted like they were always going to be traumatized about it and you from that point on."

"Well, if it causes them to clean up their act any, I have to say I can't believe I was wrong to do what I did," Yami Bakura said.

"Maybe you've got a point there," Tristan conceded. "At least they acted like they were trying to walk on the straight and narrow, but whether that was because they had the fear of God put into them or just the fear of you, I can't say."

Yami Bakura laughed. "As long as they don't try to harm Bakura or any of the rest of you again, I don't particularly care."

Tristan shook his head. "Even though I thought maybe you had another reason for doing what you did, I never expected that one. You really do kind of consider yourself a dark avenger, don't you?"

"In some ways. Or you could simply think of it as looking out for those I love. I won't let them be harmed without consequences for those responsible." Yami Bakura hesitated. "Bakura even said that in ancient times, I would have been considered good to fight against such things. He was right."

"Yeah, I guess maybe so," Tristan said. "But it's not really done that way anymore."

"I know." Yami Bakura was completely serious now. "Only perhaps it should be. You surely know what it is to feel protective over your loved ones and want to keep them safe at all costs."

"Of course I know," Tristan retorted.

"And don't tell me you've never wanted to deal out justice to those who have hurt yours, myself included."

"I have." Tristan looked away. "I guess sometimes I tried, too."

"There. You see? On that we're not so different."

Tristan frowned, looking down at his motorcycle. "Only if everybody started doing that, we'd just end up with a lot of people playing God and a lot of people getting hurt for things they might not have even done."

"As I caused in ancient Egypt. Yes, I know, and I will always regret that. But if the correct target is attacked, it's difficult for me to feel that any wrong is being done." Yami Bakura looked at him. "Perhaps in that respect, I am still a product of my time. Perhaps I don't belong in this modern age."

Tristan looked up again. "No," he said. "You belong."

Yami Bakura raised an eyebrow. "You honestly believe so?"

"Yeah," Tristan insisted. "You said it yourself, you adapt well. Maybe you'll never fully fit in on some things, but honestly, you didn't in ancient Egypt either." He climbed onto his motorcycle. "Why don't I give you a ride home? It's late and Bakura might wake up and be worried."

Yami Bakura regarded him in surprise. "Alright." He took up the other helmet and climbed on behind him.

Tristan hesitated. "And maybe sometimes, a little of your justice isn't such a bad thing. You sure saved me tonight." He put his helmet on.

Again Yami Bakura was surprised. But then he smiled, gruffly.


End file.
